


Believe Me, You Can't Hurt Me (Warm Arms)

by IceFlower680



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, BUT Peter is 18!!, Bullying, By dickheads at Peter's School, Feelings Realization, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Death is not for Peter or Wade, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark acted as Peter Parker's Parental figure, Unfortunate Identity Reveal, Verbal Abuse, so I guess you can guess who died, sorta of AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-04 16:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20473991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceFlower680/pseuds/IceFlower680
Summary: Peter suffered silently after the fight against Thanos and he deserves to. Peter's the sole reason those he loved kept dying, it'll be his fault if one more perishes as well. For those few left, Peter will spare them and he'll be stronger this time, no matter how much his body screams to find comfort in the reassurances Deadpool wants to provide.





	1. Memories

**Author's Note:**

> If you're reading, thank you. It's my first fic, so I'll hopefully be improving the further along we go. 
> 
> Edit: The original title was mostly a place holder until I found a better title. Also, I'm horrible at summaries, so hopefully the changed summary fits this fic better. 
> 
> P.S. Critics are welcome, I'm feeling 50/50 every time I write a word down and second-guessing takes up most of the time spent writing these chapter XD.

Wind whistles past Peter on his right sending shivers up his spine. The golden sword slices the metal debris with ease, only moments after Peter had dodge out of the way, the deafening shriek of metal on metal assaults his hearing. His feet momentarily make contact with the ground before Peter's Spider-sense screams in alarm, warning him of the next strike. He immediately backflips, ignoring the way his right leg blooms with pain at the action.

That was too close, barely an inch between the lethal blade and his back. Peter just needs to hold him off for a few more minutes, just until they can recover, until they can get back in the fight. He can do this, he's Spider-Man after all, he's fought in worse situations than this giant purple dickhead... well probably not...

Peter's Spider-sense flares to life once again with imminent danger, a strand of web leaving his left web shooter instinctively and attaching itself to the nearest surface. He tugs the strand, pulling himself away and evading the powerful sword. Peter's almost out of reach, he can keep the fight at a distance, he can burn through those precious minutes, he can... 

He can't get out of the way of the incoming punch, his senses overload his brain with the need to get to safety, but he doesn't get there. 

Part of his face is numb, and Peter can't make sense of what just happened, his mind to hazy to comprehend. 

Heavy footsteps register in Peter's fuzzy mind, they’re close, too close. Only stopping a few feet from his head. Through the fog in his head, Peter makes out what he thinks is shouting, they sound completely alarmed, and some are worried? One of the voices sounds familiar, one that Peter has heard often enough that it envokes fond memories to come forth. 

_ “Peter!” _

He can remember spending countless hours on weekends tinkering away, the rest of the world forgotten as if only the of the two of them existed at that time. 

_"Peter!” _

He remembers the tears littering his suit, worn out after days training in the hidden gym behind the lab. He wasn't ready to reveal himself to anyone else, so they compromised, making sure he'd have the best chance to defend himself when he needed to. 

_ “Peter!!” _

Words filled with adoration and praise when he achieved top marks in his class, when he made scandalizing headlines on The Daily Bugle for one of his good deeds, and when he'd amused his mentor with his never-ending supply of jokes and references.

_“Peter!!!”_

The familiar thrust of Iron-Man's propulsors rushing into battle beside him, a stark reminder his mentor would give up anything for Peter's safety...

* * *

“Spidey! Come on! Listen to my voice, you’re safe, you’re here, you’re… _ I DON’T KNOW… _ just shut the fuck up!!!”

Those are the first words he can make out as he's jostled out of his thoughts, His chest is compressing rapidly, trying and failing to get a lungful of air. Which makes the task of hearing the frightened words difficult, tears clouding Peter's vision through the effort.

“Breath with me Spidey! Ummm… take a breath and hold it for 3 seconds, and let it out… I KNOW IT’S WRONG, I’M TRYING MY GOD DAMN BEST…” he can feel a pair of hands grab his own, bringing it to their chest.

“Come on Spidey focus on my heartbeat, focus on my voice, please… you’re scaring me…” He tries to focus on the thumping around his hand, it’s quick beat slightly grounding him to reality.

“SING HIM A SONG??… YELLOW THAT’S NOT GOING TO… AGH OKAY FINE… I… SHIT… Ummm… ‘My Daddy Alabama! Momma Louisiana! You Mix That’... FUCK… I CAN’T SAY THAT” Peter let's out a shaky chuckle after he processed the words, the frantic words taking a scandalized tone helps lighten the weight on Peter's chest. The cloudiness around Peter starts to fade, taking the iron grip that imprisoned his lungs as well, and he's able to take a breath of air, which helps Peter push his memories to the back of his mind. 

“Hey, Spidey can you hear me, it’s Dea… umm… it’s 'Pool. Hey Sweetums, you’re safe… I’m here, I’ll prot… I WON’T FUCK IT UP… gosh, I’m sorry... I wasn’t yelling at you. You did nothing wrong, you’re the most wonderful person I know, you’re always telling little old me to clean up my act, and I am, cause’ I don’t want to screw up a second chance, one that you’ve … I know I’m rambling, just please... be quiet for a moment…” The chuckle must’ve been heard by whoever was helping him as their words softened, though they held they carry the same soothing tone throughout their speech. 

Dea…umm... Pool? The name sounds familiar, but with Peter still coming down from his panic attack he can't recall why. He chooses to focus on the other person's words, which have helped ground him enough that he can take in his surrounding. 

His hand is trapped in a furnace composed of what feels like a leather-clad chest and gloves. The warmth on his frigid fingers was a pleasant change, but they remind Peter of the constant cold he feels day in and day out, a cold Peter is aware of as he struggles through his days at Mid-Town High and one the seeps deep into his bone in his sleep.

The ache that radiates through him from kneeling on hard concrete is quick to remind Peter of the memories that passed his mind minutes before. He takes a sharp inhale as the memories flash one before the other in fast succession, his eyes welling up in tears once again. 

Whoever is holding him notices as well, taking action to alleviate Peter's distress. “I’m going to hold you, I hope that’s okay with you, if not… I’m sorry, you can kick my ass later.”

Huge arms wrap around his shivering body and Peter’s being pulled onto the person... and holy fuck, the warmth that envelopes his body stuns him for a moment, but he melts onto the other person seconds after, letting out a tired sigh as his body goes lax. It’s been a long minute since Peter's felt safe enough to let himself breakdown, to let his walls crumble and be told comforting assurances that he would be alright.

Once the first tear falls, it's futile to hope for them to stop. So he doesn’t, the river of tears running down his face collect on the bottom of his mask and the warm stranger’s collar bone. One of the warm hands on his back begins rubbing soothing circles around his back, no doubt a gentle reassurance that he’s safe, and Peter appreciates that greatly. The man embracing Peter begins humming a song that he vaguely remembers the tune of, the vibrations join the man's warmth in their quest to enter his body.

A fonder memory of Peter and his mentor comes to mind, they were watching an American Anime that had its authenticity as an Anime discredited by people on Reddit. People weren’t wrong in their assessment, but they couldn't give two shits since the time they spent together more than made up for it. 

Fond tears fell as Peter reminisced at the weekend they'd spent. The man's strong arms wrapped tighter around Peter, a silent promise that he wouldn't leave Peter until he was well. 

_ “One life, is not a long time, _

_ When you’re waiting, for a small sign. _

_ Patience, is hard to find. _

_ Shadows, seem to fill your life.” _

Lyrics to the song fall out of the man's mouth, his voice painting an image in Peter’s mind. He imagines a meadow filled with vibrant flowers of all colors, a haven filled with promises of tranquility, where Peter can run away from his problems to rejuvenate his broken soul. 

_ “Don’t be disappointed, _

_ Don’t let your heart break, _

_ Don’t spend another minute in this way, _

_ It’s okay” _

Peter lets himself listen to the voice, storing the image for when days get tougher than usual. He can hear the struggle of the man, trying to hold off the tears threatening overcome him. Peter hugs him tighter as well, hoping the man can sense his gratitude in the gesture.

_ “Dry your eyes now, baby. _

_ Broken Wings won’t hold you down. _

_ You’ll take flight soon, baby. _

_ You’ll be lifted up, and you’ll be…” _

His tears slowed down from their tirade, blearily blinking away the last of their forces. Peter opens his eyes, as much as he could for someone who had been crying for the past 20 minutes. 

A blob of red filled his vision, small smudges of black contrasting against the bright color. Peter pushes himself back, trying to get a good look at the man's face. He doesn't get further than an inch before the arms brought him back to the warm chest.

“Spidey, just relax and rest. You must be so tired.” The concern in his voice almost convinces Peter to stay put, but he powers through and pushes himself off again, ignoring the general shittiness his body feels at the movement, as the arms try in vain to stop him. 

Peter finds himself staring into another mask, more red and black filling his vision. He stares adoringly at the mask, a smile tugging at his lips when he catches sight of the adorable white circles around what would be the man's eyes. 

“Spidey, listen, do you have anyone to take care of you tonight? You’re too messed up to go home alone, I can’t let you do that, I can’t let you… I don’t think you should be alone… I”. The mask expressed the same worry in his features vividly as he spoke, and too many nights spent alone coerce Peter into wanting to agree.

“I promise I won’t look… I’ll even sleep on the couch, I… Spidey, I can’t let you… let you go home and be alone, whatever it is I’m here, okay?”

The man seemed invested in helping Peter through the night, but he couldn't place down why? Wait, he hadn't spoken anything about Peter... he spoke about Spidey? 

Peter took a minute to let the night run through him, only looking up at the man when it clicked. He cared, and maybe… maybe just tonight, Peter can bask once more in someone else's comforting presence. 

“Okay 'Pool.”

Peter whispered quietly, reminding himself that only for tonight would he let this happen.


	2. We'll be okay...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kinda dark, so I'll add trigger warnings. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings: 
> 
> Flashbacks to hateful words spoken to Peter  
Flashbacks to gaslighting, and an implied suicide attempt  
Self Depreciating inner dialogue.  
Past Character deaths.

“Like I was saying baby boy… shhh… I know, ‘Pool, for the love of my sweet ass, stop calling me that’,” Peter had definitely never spoken those words, Peter’s sweet ass was only for himself and… wait, nope that ca-

“‘POOL! Mrs. Rabbit is the hardest working person in the show, end of discussion.” If Deadpool believed he could convince Peter of discrediting the best single mother on television, he was dead wrong. 

“Yeah and maybe she can’t hold a job for the life of her and is constantly getting fired… thank you, Yellow! At least someone has my back!” 

If he kept this up, Peter would soon regret his decision to follow Deadpool. For now, a certain mercenary needed a voice of reason in his madness “She’s always good at the job, why would she be getting fired?”

“That’s the THING! We only ever see her when her friends show up!” 

“‘Only ever see her when her friends show up’, you saying she’s putting up an act the rest of the time?”

“You only ever see her with Peppa and the Pig family…” Maybe Deadpool was not as sane as he thought him to be.

“Quiet ‘Pool, I will not stand for this slander of her character, she is too good for this world.” 

The pair were currently walking to Deadpool’s apartment, bickering away at the possible truth to the many jobs Mrs. Rabbit held. 

Well at least Deadpool was, Peter’s eyes warily scanned the streets for the slightest sign of trouble. He hadn’t been blind to the gradual deterioration of the streets and buildings around them. Peter had insisted it was no problem for him to swing them over, but Deadpool was not budging on his stance of Peter taking it easy for the rest of the night. And okay, maybe he had broken down in front of the man, but couldn’t he see that swinging for a few minutes wasn’t going to be the end of Peter. 

“Ugh, fine but next time you’ll realize I’m right. By the way, I’ll order whatever you’d want to eat, no limit, I’ll pay for it all and...?” He tilts his head slightly to the left, a gesture Peter vaguely thought looked like he was regarding someone.

“OOOH, you’re right Yellow, I would absolutely love to get a taste of that, can you imagine how scrumptious and plump it’ll be when I get my hands on it!” Huh, that does sound good, hmm… maybe if he asks nicely then maybe Deadpool will get it for…

“_Deadpool_, ugh pizza is fine, and please stop talking about my ass!” he says, scolding the traitorous burning on his face. With the number of times Peter has been the subject of Deadpool’s inappropriate comments, one would be led to believe it doesn’t phase him, but...

Deadpool’s words are just different, they’re endearing at best, wildly inappropriate at worst and all of them at Peter’s expense. 

No one has complimented Peter in that way for several years, and quite a few more if you add the years he spent as dust during-

_“Do you believe anyone cares about you?” _

He jolts at the words coming forth through his thoughts. He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths as the words fill his mind, bitterly chipping away at the calm atmosphere Peter was engulfed in. 

An arm snakes its way around his shoulders and Peter opens his eyes, seeing Deadpool looking down at him with concern plastered on his mask. Peter sighs quietly, he focuses on the bulky arm rather than the intrusive words.

“Okay, no more ass comments for tonight… uhh, what’s going up in there Sweetums? Do you want to share… NOT THAT YOU HAVE TO… you know, but... maybe I can help?” Deadpool’s tone was laced with worry and Peter knew right then he couldn't tell him what went through his mind. He's treated Peter so well all night, and he can’t make him worry anymore.

“Oh.. umm… it’s nothing ‘Pool, just that… uhhh… I… umm… I have a field trip coming up, and my best friend isn’t going to go, yeah!! ” fuck...

FUCK. 

FUCK.

FUCK.

NOPE. Nope, Peter did not tell Deadpool that. 

Peter will just pinch himself and he’ll wake up from this dream...

“ow...” 

Well fuck… no one who knew him ever preached Peter was great with lying on the spot. 

Peter began to slowly turn his head towards the man, hoping to whatever god that Deadpool hadn’t cut off his arm after Peter’s inner turmoil and ran. Thankfully he wasn’t if a 6’2” man of muscles in a suit of red and black was anything to go by. 

Deadpool was still, too still… shit! Had Peter killed the man with what he said?

“Deadpool, shit! Fuck, you alive in there?!?” The man shook his head at the head at Peter’s frantic question, seemingly blinking away the discussion in his head. 

“Spidey… how old are you…?” he spoke quietly, Peter concluded came from being afraid of his answer.

“I know _ White… I won’t forget to do it later, _but tonight isn’t about me, okay??” Peter was startled by the low growl in Deadpool’s voice, and fuck… Peter had to make things worse, didn’t he? 

“I’m 18 ‘Pool.” he quietly says back before he could deliberate if telling Deadpool anymore of himself was a good idea.

Nice Peter, might as well just tell him your name, show him your face and ask him to fuck you, a voice in the back of his mind speaks viciously, how would May feel about him bringing back another fucking burden to her?

_I bet she wishes every day she was on that plane with your parents.” _

Peter curls into himself, as though he had been punched in the gut, his knees locking with the harsh tone of the words. He struggles for a few seconds before he can take another breath, while his eyes glaze over at the words are now being repeated in his head like a mantra.

They’re right, all of them are right. Examples of Peter burdening May don't take long to jump to his mind, from keeping her from work to take care of him whenever he fell ill, asking for toys and games they couldn’t afford just so he could have fun for a few hours, and worst of all, helping take away the one thing she loved more than anythi-

“I… okay Spidey… _ I KNOW!!! I’ve been fucking pinning on a FUCKING HIGH SCHOOLER, you don’t have to FUCKING REPEAT IT WHITE!!! _” Peter can hear the self-hatred evident in the growled words. Self-hatred Peter provoked for the other man, yet another example of people having to bear the burden of Peter's presence. He makes everything worse for everyone, he knows this, and whatever Deadpool deems fit, he deserves.

“It’s okay Spidey, you don’t have to tell me anything else. I… We’ll be fine and we’ll-” Peter's last chance at consolation lost to the torment he’s heard throughout his life, his earlier anguish returning tenfold with each resurfacing memory. 

_"Wow Parker, you’re despicable. Tell me, how would someone like him ever take notice in the beggar you are?” _

Those words spoken in empty classrooms, void of any witnesses or help. Not that anyone would have helped, not when their help would only end up hurting them as well. He remembers the bruises and cuts hidden underneath his clothing, thankful that he wouldn’t be burdening Aunt May any further. 

_ “You’re wasting space, no one left will give a shit if you kill yourself imbecile, no one will!” _

Words spoken in a dark alley, days after the only thing making life bearable was taken. Every nerve in Peter becoming numb as his fingers clutched the handle of the knife.

“I… I… he cares… I…” he tries to hold onto that thought, his last hope...

_ “Then you’ve officially lost it, I’ll visit you at whatever institution you end up in, fucking useless” _

Words he remembers as he woke up in a medical bed, roused by constant beeping of medical equipment and the warm hands on his. When he opened his eyes, he had been met with the sight of his mentor resting on his legs, tear tracks evident beneath his eyes. Tears sprung to Peter’s eyes at the memory of Mr. Stark’s clear anguish at Peter’s actions. 

His quiet sobs had stirred the other man from his sleep, who had turned towards Peter direction at another quiet whimper. Mr. Stark had incredulously stared at Peter, as though he would have disappeared if he blinked even once.

Peter remembers the look of relief wash across Mr. Starks face when he accepted that Peter was laying down on the bed. He also remembers Mr. Stark sit up and wrap Peter in a tender warm hug to soothe his sorrow. He remembers apologizing profoundly into his blazer, mixing with Mr. Stark’s own reassuring words, until he had calmed down enough and fallen back into a restful sleep.

A day doesn’t go by without Peter aching for one more chance to hug Mr. Stark with all his heart, hoping to grasp the slightest amount of Mr. Starks solidity to make it through one more day...

But Peter doesn’t deserve it, he wasn’t strong enough during the one time he needed to be... and now... Mr. Stark was gone, he’d been the reason he’d died that day...

“I’m useless... useless, they’re gone… he’s gone..." Peter's tears continue to fall as he repeats the words. 

“Shit! Listen to me Spidey we’re here, I’m gonna carry you inside...” he feels arms grab his thighs and shoulders steadily. The following words are muffled, only echoes of hurried footsteps, ragged breaths, and his own wrecked sounding speaking managing to breach his thoughts. 

“He… he… he should still be…” gasps cut off his talking. What was Peter thinking, they were all right. It was his fault, it’s happened to Peter over and over, and yet, he let himself get to close once again and now he was gone… 

His parents were gone long before he had a chance to put them in harm; their deaths sparing them from being one more count in the list Peter has killed.

Uncle Ben was not as fortunate, he remembers the orange glow of the light post illuminating his desperate struggle for life. His eyebrows creased tightly, labored gasps escaped his tight-lipped scowl, one that Peter never failed to see when his Aunt May smiles at him. What would she do if she knew Peter had helped killed Ben? He wouldn’t fight whatever she did, he deserved her wrath for killing her husband.

Then there was Harry... he had just asked for Peter's blood, how could he have been so fucking selfish? Peter could’ve saved him, given his life for his friend, not fought and killed him. Peter’s the reason his old friend is dead and then there is… Gwen…

Conversations ended when she entered any room, and how could they not. As beautiful as she was, her endless genius, her gentle soul and her caring nature made her stand out in a sea of poison. Her warm smile lit up the darkness of his days, and of all the people who could ever be in her interest, Peter was always on top. Who could have blamed him for caving? 

He knew he would never be good enough for her and he told himself to enjoy it before she came to her senses, when she’d see his flaws and leave him for good. At least that’s how it was supposed to be…

Instead, he cradled her brokenly as she passed in his arms. He barely heard his grief-stricken sobs through the desperation he felt as her warmth slipped away between his fingertips. His attempts to depart were halted as an emptiness engulfed in a familiar cold settled deep within Peter and only the distant sounds of nearing the tower managed to pry his hands open. Peter remembered the tranquility etched in her features, and he locked the image far in the back of his mind before he departed and a woeful goodbye whispered to the dark. 

She was one of the few took the time to know him, to try to care about him and maybe she had even loved him. Peter knows damn well he loved her. Too many nights spent in her warm arms to keep his nightmares away made him realize his feelings. 

_ “Gwen, I’m no good, you’ll only get hurt staying with me.” maybe she had noticed his words in conflict with what his heart screamed for. _

_ “Peter Parker, you have given so much to this city, saved so many because it’s the right thing to do, and all you get back is to be treated as though you don’t matter every day. You deserve so much more than I can give you, and I’ll be here as long as…” _

_ “Gwen stop, you’re too good for me…” his words trail off as he wills tears at bay a bit longer. “Words can’t describe how shitty life has been... but you make it better, you make it so fucking great… I don’t want to ever lose you, but It would hurt so much more for me to be the reason you hurt...” _

_ Whatever protest he would make next was stopped when Gwen embraced him, Peter's resolve dissipating as the warmth draped over him. Peter was safe here, embraced in a promise of love and protection from all the evil thrown his way. No one could harm him here, as long as Gwen’s warm arms stayed around him. _

_He’ll let himself have this, there will still be bad days, but with Gwen, maybe they’ll be few and far between._

_ “Peter Parker… you listen to me, I’m not going to leave you… you’re going to have me as long as you want me ” _

Fresh tears fall at the final memory flashed behind his eyes, Peter had loved her, and now Gwen was dead. 

Peter had been right and hadn't that made the knife in Peter’s heart twist with hatred towards himself. The feeling plagued his thoughts as he swung home that night, his webbing getting increasingly harder to grab with each new strand.

This was the lesson Peter had been through time and time again, those he loved could only get hurt by being around him. He should have learned that night to push away from the last people he had left after her death. Free them of his cursed presence and let them live on without the risk of Peter bringing them to an early grave.

He’s Spider-Man for crying out loud. He swings through the starless nights stopping robberies and apprehending would-be rapists and muggers in dark alleyways. Fought time and time again with the weekly villain, always standing back up when he’s down no matter how much he wanted to give up, the raging fire to protect those who couldn’t far outweigh his thoughts. Spider-Man is supposed to be a symbol of endless determination and strength. 

So why had he been so weak that night? Why didn’t he tell him to leave? 

Instead, he was embraced sympathetically in Mr. Stark's arms who offered solace in Aunt May's absence, working overtime once again. 

“It should’ve been…” how many more people needed to die for him to understand. All he can ever do is bring harm to those around him. 

Not anymore, none, he can’t let himself be selfish anymore. 

Aunt May, she’ll be better off this way… yeah... she will. She won’t have to worry about Peter’s problems, she can let herself have the life Peter took away. She can be happy without him… 

And Deadpool…he’s done so well with not un-aliving people, and Peter is proud of how far he’d come. Deadpool doesn’t need his fucked-up life to worry about on the daily. With the progress he's made, Deadpool will be recognized for the good he's doing, he could achieve his dream of impressing the Avengers, he doesn't need Peter anymore…

And yeah sure, the ex-merc is known for not being able to die, but how long before that changed with Peter’s luck around. Deadpool will also be better of without him… they all would. 

Peter wills the tears to stop as he makes up his mind, his goal clearing the fog around him. He slowly opens his eyes, the rooftops of shorter buildings meeting him at eye level. He takes in the fire escape Deadpool has taken to get them up to his apartment. They’ve climbed nearly five stories since Peter can last remember, and Peter doesn’t think about that twice when he begins to struggle against Deadpool’s tight grip. 

“Spidey, calm down… where almost there-” he’s cut off by Peter elbow connecting with his jaw, every last ounce of strength he can muster in the action. 

It works, Peter can feel Deadpool’s grip around him loosen from the impact, and it’s Peter’s chance… he can do right for at least one person… 

Peter feet ungracefully touch down on the metal grating of the staircase. He looks towards Deadpool’s direction, noticing the ex-mercs hands on his jaw, no doubt aching painfully from the hit, and Peter hopes the man can forgive him once he’s gone. 

Peter doesn’t look back again, he just registers his feet moving one in front of the other, the edge just a foot away…

He doesn’t make it. Peter turns around to see his left wrist being held by a very angry Deadpool. “Spidey, WHAT THE FUCK!!! I’M TRYING TO HELP YOU AND-” 

“I’m doing this for you, ‘Pool!” he retorts, a tinge of boldness entering his voice. It irks Peter that Deadpool's grasp on his wrists tightens. 

“Doing what for me Spidey?!?” confusion evident in the reply as he pulls Peter, who is thrashing against his hold, towards him at the same time. 

“YOU DON’T NEED ME ‘POOL!” he screams back, hoping Deadpool will understand Peter's intent. His free hand is thrown erratically, trying to stop Deadpool’s efforts, and its failure is evident when he’s pulled to the chest of the merc. He doesn’t stop his fight, he can’t, he needs to be stronger this time.

“I’ll hurt you ‘Pool” Peter’s words lose a bit of their edge, though his struggle is no less purposeful.

“Spidey… Sweetums, you can hurt me all you want, but I can take it, I’m unkill- FUCK!!!” Deadpool cries out in pain once again, a result of Peter’s fist colliding against his jaw. 

Peter's will gathers the last of his strength and he’s free…

Peter can spare Deadpool and… 

Peter can’t finish the thought as his senses scream with the incoming hit. He sees as Deadpool’s fist reflexively shoots out with the need to protect the ex-merc. 

If Peter wasn’t as tired as he was, he would have been able to dodge the fist effortlessly, but instead, his breath leaves him yet again for the millionth time that night, his mind going hazy with the pain that erupts from his chest. 

Peter can distantly tell he’s stumbling backward, step after step until his back impacts something solid, but his momentum carries him through.

Peter can feel himself blacking out and he should be worried… but his final thoughts are content with the knowledge that_ ‘Pool is safe_… 

The last thing he hears is faded, frantic shouting getting further and further away...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it took a bit to get this out, but I had to take a break for my own mental health. I consider myself not to be a hateful or spiteful person, so writing this chapter took more out of me than I thought it would. 
> 
> As this chapter also came out thirtyish minutes after Suicide Prevention day, I want to add that people will be there for you if you're ever feeling hopeless. Opening up is hard, but talking about your issues with anyone will help immensely. And if you can even talk to me if you don't have anyone to turn to, I'll help the most I can. Remember, you're not alone, and Peter will not be alone either.  
Back to the story, next chapter will be angsty but will also contain fluff, cause I need it, and I'm you might want to reread chapter 1 when chapter 3 is posted, since looking back at it now, its sucks ass XD.  
I'd also like to say thank you for your kudos, it means so much and I hope that this chapter pleases you as much as the first chapter did.


	3. I've Got You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the following one will be in Wade's perspective, also the edited Chapter 1 is also out.

(Yellow Box)

[White Box]

Many people [Mostly SHIELD and the Avengers, Wade.] would describe Wade Wilson’s life as an unstoppable chaotic force akin to a hurricane, one which would rip to shreds every aspect of the life of whatever unfortunate soul was in his path. 

Every single fucker who had had the misfortune of ending up on Wade’s radar could attest to their statement, or not. Sometimes he had spent time before missions wondering how those fuckers last moments where spent, hoping and dying of laughter (literally) when he’d noticed most of them had pissed themselves out of fear. Having Deadpool blowing up their front door, stopping at nothing until the scum was dead seemed to have that effect.

(OOOO WADE! WADE! REMEMBER THAT ONE RAPIST WE HAD TO CHASE AND STOP FROM JUMPING OFF THEIR ROOF! REMEMBER WHEN HE LITERALLY SHIT HIMSELF WHEN YOU SKEWERED HIS ARM!)

[Holy fuck Yellow, take it down a few notches, you pillock! Also, that’s quite a bit insensitive at the moment, you know cause THIS FUCKING IDIOT JUST PUNCHED SPIDER-MAN OFF THE FUCKING FIRE ESCAPE!]

“I KNOW WHITE! FUCK!!! SPIDEY!!!” Wade shouts frantically, he had been stunned when he saw Spider-Man stagger backward and then go over the railing, it seemed unreal.

After helping Spidey calm down from his panic attack, everything seemed to be going well. They started their usual chatter, Spidey a bit quieter than usual, while walking to one of his nicer apartments…

[Don’t you mean Hell House?]

SAFEHOUSE, when he’d made an off-hand comment about Spidey’s wonderful ass... 

(yesssssssssssss… mmmmmmmm….)

And his little sweetums began to spiral once again. Wade hastily cradled the smaller man into his chest, his head gently landing on the crook of Wade’s neck, and sprinted towards his safehouse while whispering reassurances into the Spidey’s masked ear, hoping to get through to the Spider.

[Aren’t you forgetting the part where you were pinning on a high schooler, you fucking creep!]

Okay, Wade could admit more fault at helping send Spidey further into another panic attack, but he’d been taken aback at Spidey’s slip-up, and yes White it was a slip-up. Spidey tensed when Wade had stupidly asked what bothered him, it was obvious he didn’t want to talk about his problems. 

And maybe it shouldn’t have surprised him Spidey had answered with something else in his life, he’d done the same before when Wade’s questions seemed to hit too close to home… actually, most of the time he deflected had been when Wade asked about his relationship with the Avengers, ahem, to be more precise, a certain dead Iron Dick...

[Wade, as much as I appreciate you trying to set up a backstory that the author seems to have forgotten to do in prior chapters, SPIDER-MAN IS STILL FUCKING FALLING!!!]

Wade jumps into action, he can have another internal monologue later in this chapter if the author makes it so, hopping over the railing without a care for his safety. He doesn’t feel fear as he begins to fall, his thoughts only focused on stopping Spidey from getting the worst of the impact. 

Wade tilts his upper body downward, arms drawn to his side to help cut through the air faster, his X-force days coming in handy, RIP Peter. (What a stupid name!)

His Sweetums [Wade…] only had a few seconds head start on Wade, so catching up to the falling Spider wasn’t a problem. 

“SPIDEY!!!” Wade yelled as loud as he can, hoping Spidey can hear him. He gets nothing in response, not even the slightest twitch in his body at Wade’s voice. 

[He’s unconscious, be careful and make sure he doesn’t get seriously hurt.]

(WADE!!! Don’t let him hurt anymore, HUG HIM!!! KISS HIM BETTER WHEN HE WAKES UP!!!)

The voices fill his head as he reaches for Spidey, quickly wrapping one arm around the slimmer waist, the other finds its way to the back of Spidey’s head, holding him tight to his chest, and flips them around. Wade trying to use his body as a cushion, hoping it’s enough to keep the worst of the fall on him and not on Spidey.

(What if… what if he doesn’t make it Wade?) Yellow asked shakingly, clearly the worst scenario running through the more emotional box. 

[Yellow, this is Spider-Man, he is resilient, he’s had worse falls than this one, and we’ve been witnesses a few times to when he stands back up. He’ll make it through this fall as well.] White responds, whether to be reassuring or not wanting to deal with a hysterical Yellow later on, is anyone’s guess.

“I’ve got you Spidey, I’ll always be here for when you fall...” Wade promises in whispers, his chin resting on top of the unconscious Spider’s head. Wade has to be there now, he doesn’t care how much Spidey will fight him, he can’t let Spidey continue to deal with his problem alone. 

Those thoughts are circling Wade’s head when they hit the ground. Pain erupts from his hip bone, sudden and excruciating, followed by the rest of his body moments later. Every nerve of Wade’s body screams for attention as waves of pain roll through him. 

Wade knows he probably holds the world record for the number of times anyone has died like ever, so death isn’t something he can say he is afraid of, but slowly waking up, hurt emanating from deep in his bones, lasting for hours if not days at a time, is a feeling he’ll never get used to.

The constant throbbing in all of his body is the only thing he can register after they hit the ground, but his infamous healing factor quickly swoops in to save the day. 

Wade’s hip is slowly mending itself back together when he feels his spine snap back into place, oh so that was broken too!

[You’ve fractured your skull, shattered both your shoulder blades, pelvis, and the femur on your right leg, let’s not forget five of your ribs are broken, and you probably have internal bleeding you’ll have to deal with later, but hey, you’re alive.]

Relief washes over Wade as White lists off each one of his injuries, glad that he survived the impact and his healing factor will have less work until he can get up. 

(Is… is he alive Wade?) Yellow speaks up through the cloudiness in his mind, the fear that Spidey didn’t survive the fall noticeable in his tone.

Wade’s arms miraculously never let go of Spidey, resolutely holding him to his chest despite the pain that spread throughout his body. He waits a few agonizing minutes for his shoulder blades to unshatter before pulling Spidey into a tighter hold.

Wade tilts his head downward towards Spidey’s, the small rise and fall of his chest reassuring all the inhabitants of Wade’s mind. He can begin to feel Spidey’s shallow breaths ghost over his chest, reaffirming that he’s alive and looks mostly unscathed. 

(Wade… don’t let him go, place him on your bed and cuddle him, kiss him!!! Just don’t let him be alone…). 

[Yellow, not only does that idea completely disregard Spider-Man’s privacy, but earlier he said and I quote, “I’m doing this for you ‘Pool.” and “You don’t need me ‘Pool”. Would it be wise for Spider-Man to wake up next to the person that was causing him distress Yellow?]. 

(But… but he feels sad White! He needs someone to make him feel better!).

[Again, you’re conveniently ignoring the fact that he is barely of age, and you’ve been lusting over him for years, please don’t make a fool out of yourself Wade.].

White’s right, as much as he’d like to hold and snuggle up next to Spidey, protecting him against any nightmares he might have, he needs to let his Sweetums [You’re pathetic.] be in his right mind if he doesn’t want another repeat of their fucked up night.

“Hold on tight Spidey, ‘cause I’m not letting you go anytime soon.” Wade singsongs above Spidey’s masked head, slowly lowering his own to drop a brief kiss to the top of the mask. [Wade, that’s enough.] He closes his eyes, a few tears slipping past as he recalls everything that happened that night. 

Wade needs to be there for him now, he knows Spidey has sacrificed a lot to help Wade. What seemed like an already strained bond between the Avengers and Spidey was shot to hell when they’d heard about the younger hero spending time around Deadpool.

He can recall the Spidey’s feisty demeanor, similar to a tiny adorable angry chiwawa, the night when they’d excluded him from Avengers business. Spidey’s rant about the hypocrisy of the Avengers for not giving Wade a chance and offering him guidance was the moment Wade fell in love with his Sweetums. The day Wade knew he would give up anything to make sure Spidey always had a smile on his face.

Wade lowers his head once more, placing a firmer kiss onto the crown of Spidey’s head, hoping that somewhere inside the unconscious hero, Spidey can feel the promise that he won’t be alone, that Wade will make sure one day his misery can be overcome. 

Wade’s muscle’s strain as he pushes both of them up, Spidey’s legs straddling Wade’s, to a sitting position. The arm around Spidey’s waist let’s go and joins his other arm in gently holding the heroes head. 

Wade carefully pulls back and stares into the two black lines over the eyes of the hero, the familiar large white lenses are closed in on themselves, they give him a peaceful appearance in his sleep. Wade sighs quietly, hoping that Spidey can rest easy for the rest of the night. 

(You’ll take care of him...?) Yellow asks timidly.

“Always,” he says under his breath as he holds Spidey to his chest again and stands up. Wade makes his way up the fire escape, gracefully as to not disturb the younger man in his arms. 

When they reach his apartment, Wade carefully enters through the window, managing to not disturb Spidey in the process, and makes a beeline to the bedroom. 

He places Spidey on the bed, an old single twin mattress with more than a few questionable splotches on the surface. it’s the best Wade can do for now. He grabs the edge of the duvet and pushes it up to the hero’s chin, and Wade sighs heavily, knowing that Spidey’s terrible night is over. 

Wade takes a few seconds to make up his mind before his hands are reaching up to Spidey’s mask and gently rolls the edge to the bridge of his nose. It’s not the first time Wade has seen bottom of Spidey’s face, but it’s the first time he’s rolled up the mask. A quiet whimper leaves the thin lips below him and Wade runs a hand soothingly against his cheek. 

After a few minutes, Spidey lets out a content sigh and Wade takes his hand back and stares at the sleeping hero. 

“I’ll be here, okay,” Wade whispers into the air, his mind made up as he heads towards his couch and promptly lays down, his promise to be by Spidey’s side runs through his head as tiredness from the day drags Wade into a restless, fitful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally have some free time this week so I'll hopefully update two or three more times.


	4. I'll be your support...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade comforts Spidey after the fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll add another chapter on Monday, sorry I couldn't update sooner. Living close to the Texas coast had me anxious when the National Hurricane Center started tracking a system moving towards Texas in the Gulf of Mexico, so I apologize. Also, has anyone listened to Sunshine Kitty by Tove lo, It's so good and it helped me finally settle down enough to write.

Wade knows no more than 2 hours have passed since he last woke up, which was sometime around three in the morning. He sits up gingerly, groaning when his muscles strained from the movement, and his eyes flicker around his living room. 

“Holy fuck, when was the last time we visited this shithole?” the disgust in Wade’s voice grows the longer he looks around the room. 

[You last stayed here around the end of 2013, Wade. You came here saying something along the lines of, “At least it was always fucking quiet in this hellhole.”]

White responds factually and Wade isn’t surprised the box knows why he visited this place. Out of the three inhabitants in Wade’s mind, White’s memory outclasses both him and Yellow by longshot. 

[Your compliment is appreciated.]

“It’s the only thing your good for asshole.” he replies bitterly, White’s memory may be good, but that doesn’t make him less of a jerk.

(You tell him, Wade! Don’t let that bitch disrespect you again!). Yellow chimes in, always the eager puppy trying to please their owner. 

Yellow is definitely the nicer of the two, not that Wade is saying Yellow doesn’t piss him off at times, but Yellow is more mindful of Wade’s emotional wellbeing.

Wade’s sure the box has some form of separation anxiety, even if Yellow won’t admit it. He isn’t afraid of spending precious hours of silence away from the boxes by killing himself, and Wade can admit he enjoys basking in the peace that follows. 

He only feels the slightest sense of regret when Yellow’s desolate whimpers register in his mind. The box cries won’t leave for hours, and the wounded tone in its words stay for days after. Wade wants to apologize profusely to Yellow, but he won’t if the boxes hound him for the smallest things he does, degrading him until he doesn’t have any other choice but to kill himself for some quiet.

[When have we been wrong Wade? You’re a compulsive idiot, getting yourself into precarious situations because you’re thought processes come from your dick before your fucking brain.]

“White shhhh, you can’t say shit, you’re the idiot who dared me to deepthroat that cucumber. We kept fucking dying and reviving for like 5 days!” That had been an interesting week for Wade. White kept being turned on by anything long and thick, not timid about sharing its unholy thoughts to an easily excitable Wade and that made hiding his unexpected bulges from Spidey a challenge. 

[Wade, you Swore. You. Wouldn’t. Talk. About. Those. Days.] 

The fuming response had Wade imaging if smoke would come out of White’s ears if the box had a head.

“You know I wouldn’t betray your trust like that White…” Wade emphasized by fluttering his eyes and bring his hand to his chest. White scoffed at the sarcasm pouring out of Wade, but the lack of retort made it obvious White didn’t think dealing with Wade wasn’t important at the moment. 

(Wade, check on Spidey!! What if he woke up and is alone! You can’t let that happen!)

Yellow piped up at White’s absence, snapping Wade out of his talk with the boxes.

From the spot Wade is currently sitting, he can get a good view into the rest of his apartment, and it makes Wade sick to his stomach. Chinese takeout and pizza boxes that are obviously years old litter the floor. Wade grimaces and makes a mental note to burn this place down when Spidey has left…

And speaking of Spidey, Wade stands up, stretching his legs and arms trying to rid the soreness that weighs them down and takes slow steps towards the hallway on his right. Wade’s bedroom is the door to the right, opposite of the bathroom. When he reaches the door, he opens it slightly, trying to not startle Spidey if he is awake. 

Wade listens intently for any sign that the Spider is awake, getting slightly worried after not hearing a peep. He opens the door wider to take a better look, and his body tenses at the quiet gasp he hears, Wade doesn’t want Spidey fleeing if he thinks Wade is trouble. 

“Hey Spidey, It’s me Deadpool.” he spoke in a hushed manner, hoping he was loud enough for Spidey to hear him. The tiny exhale he hears alleviates some of the tension, and he thinks opening the door further won’t hurt either of them. 

Wade enters the room slowly, his eyes roaming the expanse Spidey’s mask, the white and white lenses stare back apprehensively, but Wade can’t seem to care right now, all that matters is that Spidey’s all right.

“How are you feelings webs?” he asks warily, uncertain if Spidey will answer him.

“Like I’ve been hit by a semi ‘Pool, what happened?” Spidey’s lenses close for a few seconds, his shoulders drop and his demeanor changes to show the hero’s fatigue. 

“Well, you sort of fell 5 stories last night, Sweetums.” Wade hopes Spidey won’t ask more about the prior night. 

“I… What?” the hero’s lenses blow wide open, he stares at Wade with obvious denial. “I… bullshit. My healing factor doesn’t compare to yours Deadpool, I’d still have a couple of broken bones right now.”

“Ehhh, I think my body took most of the fall, either that or the author didn’t want you to be any worse shape than you already were, thank goodness.” Wade emphasizes what happened by blowing a kiss to the sky. He turns his attention back to Spidey, finding the younger man’s head is turned downward, clearly contemplating Wade’s words. 

He reminds Wade of those old statues which look on the verge of a midlife crisis…

“Why would you do that… fuck ‘Pool, you didn’t have to hurt yourself for me!” Spidey’s voice nears a yell by the end, and Wade takes a step back at Spidey’s outburst. 

He stands still in surprise, Wade not understanding why Spidey seemed so upset about Wade saving his life. The shivers that come over the hero jump-starts Wade’s memory, the self-deprecating comments from earlier coming forward. Regret at his choice of words runs through his veins, and Wade needs to fix this quickly before Spidey has another panic attack.

“Look Spidey, I punched you and that caused the fall, if I’d let you get hurt, that would have made me feel more like shit than I already was. I couldn’t let that happen.” 

Spidey cocks his head back towards Wade, the lenses narrowing in disbelief again. He doesn’t blame Spidey, Wade wouldn’t believe himself either if he’d gone through what Spidey had dealt with. 

“I threw the first punch and-fuck, you probably hate me right now… I should go, I’ve fucked this up so much…” So Spidey remembers more about the night now, and that’s not great if he wants the hero to believe that Wade won’t leave him alone. 

“Hey, are you saying I can’t take a hit Spidey, cause I’m so going to be offended if you are.” Wade says in a light manner, meaning no malice. 

“Shit! No, you’re so huge ‘Pool! You probably couldn’t feel my punches!” Is Spidey trying to appease Wade? Why would he do that…

“Okay, I meant it as a joke Webs, and for the record, you throw a mean right hook, caught me off guard, so no more talking down on yourself.” 

“So I did hurt you… fuck, I’ll get going now...” Yup, it’s decided, Wade cannot allow Spidey to keep taking the blame for the situation.

“Nuh-uh, you’re not going anywhere until you have eaten. What type of host would I be if didn’t feed my guest.” He stores away the adorable confusion that crosses the Spider’s mask at Wade’s offer. 

“You’re not mad? ‘Pool, I hurt you, and I’ll probably hurt you again. I can’t let myself hurt you anymore…” Spidey sounds so defeated, it physically hurts Wade to restrain himself from crossing the room and wrap Spidey in a hug so comforting with promises of better tomorrow. 

Instead, Wade reiterates what he’d said to Spidey last night. “And I told you, Sweetums, you can’t hurt me. ‘Member, I’m immortal and that won’t change, hasn’t yet, and it never will.” 

Spidey huffs at the statement, clearly wanting to disagree, but for now deciding not to. The quiet between them is tense, neither wanting to disturb the other, until Spidey eyes him again, like he was searching for an answer in Wade’s mind. 

“Why do you call me that ‘Pool?” Spidey whispers, Wade barely catches the response. He looks at Spidey who has curled in on himself. It reminds Wade of how he acts when he’s self-conscious when he feels scared of what people will say about him. 

“‘Cause I care about you, it helps me stay calm to call people pet-names when I’m stressed. Not that you’re stressing me out! But, I despise seeing you cry… ugh, give me a sec.” Wade chokes a bit, his emotions towards the hero have been complicated since they met. He had wanted to cherish and love the Spider and make the Woo-Hoo when they were ready to, but learning he was still in high school had thrown a wrench to that plan. 

Wade couldn’t abandon him, not when Spidey threw away so much for him. Spidey was the only hero in the community that took Wade’s requests to be taught how to be a hero seriously. They spent the first few months changing Wade’s methods of dealing with bad guys. Rubber bullets instead of real bullets and throwing more punches instead of stabbing them with knives. 

His katanas brought them the most issues, they are Wade’s favorite weapons! He couldn’t just throw them away! They were the only thing Spidey agreed Wade could keep, if a bit reluctant. Wade could make the claim Spidey adorned them as well, Spidey hadn’t been able to hide his mirth when Wade took out his katanas and cherished them with love.

So to sum it up, Wade owed Spidey big ones, like gigantic big ones, two of them. 

Wade took a shaky breath, clearing his throat before speaking again. “The dickhead Avengers cast you out because you saw something in me they didn’t, the least I can do is be your support, so I’m here to tell you that I, Wade Wilson will not leave your side!” he raises his voice to emphasize the point. 

[Great, you gave him your name. As I said, thinking with your dick fucking pervert.]

“Wade Wilson…” Spidey mutters quietly, trying to familiarize himself with the name. “It’s a nice name, Wade.” 

Wade's heart flutters at the smile he can hear at the others' words. He’s so ecstatic that Spidey seems to believe Wade, and he’ll make sure that he never breaks that trust. 

“Thanks, umm so would you be okay with pancakes, Blind Al would swear by my pancakes if she were here, but uh… fuck I left her in the basement!” he berates himself, telling White to remind him to free Al from her hell. 

[Maybe I won’t, it’s what she deserves for shooting us in the dick.]

“Yeah, I’d like some pancakes, Wade.” Spidey’s stomach growls loudly in the quiet room in affirmation, leaving both of them giggling at the noise. When Wade composes himself enough he looks at Spidey again, warmth encompassing the longer he looks. Spidey turns to him as well, their masked eyes-catching and he sees the slight sign of a smile tug Spidey’s lips under his mask, and Wade… Wade can get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Critics are welcome, also I'm tired so I didn't edit this chapter, so sorry for the mistakes. I'll edit it tomorrow. Next chapter our boys are going to take a trip to the US Open Finals!!! They'll catch the amazing match between Serena Williams and Bianca Andresscu. (Spoilers Wade is going to be a very happy man)

**Author's Note:**

> P.P.S. Many ideas came to me after I had the main plot points written down and no villains were going to make an appearance but that changed, hence the added characters of Mysterio and Proxima Midnight.


End file.
